


Four Against One; Two Fight Three

by ArtJim (AniMonster)



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniMonster/pseuds/ArtJim
Summary: The Entity has always been an unimaginable force, and it found a way to pull people into its realm. When two let's players are forced into its games, they can only hope they can rely on each other to open the exit gates and get home.





	1. Chapter 1

The trees shouldn't have been there. The sky should have been bright – like, just hit noon bright. And it should have been behind a ceiling.

Truth be told, it was the smell that woke me up. Fresh dew and campfire smoke were far flung from the computer room smell I was used to. Not that my mind was clear. It stayed pretty fuzzy.

Long enough for a familiar face to appear above me, accurately confused by who I was. I focused on the very German nose that held a pair of glasses for a pair of Korean eyes. It gave me time to sort out what I could remember.

“Hey.” The lower tone of the man's voice confirmed my suspicions.

“Hi,” I responded. “Did L.A. Suddenly get more trees?”

“Not that I'm aware of. Would say it's nice to meet a fan here, but...” He looked around. “Not sure where 'here' is, but it doesn't look nice.”

I finally managed to sit up to take in my surroundings. A dense fog surrounded us, trees just visible in the mist. The two of us sat near a bright campfire that warded away the cold that threatened to take my fingers. It left a sinking feeling in my gut. The entire scenario felt too familiar, especially with what I could remember after turning on my computer.

“So, you already know me, I'm guessing,” he said to break the silence.

“Humor me, anyway,” I replied, shifting to sit on a log with him. He was probably used to it, but shit, anything that could be considered normal would help my nerves.

He offered me a small grin and held out a hand. “I'm Mark.”

I took it and tried to offer back my own grin. It was probably really weak. “Ani.”

His grip was more firm then mine, though it wasn't uncomfortable. It did make me a tad self conscious though.

“Nice to meet you, even if the setting isn't the greatest.”

“Same. Though I'd say the setting graduated to terrifying.”

Mark shuddered with a grimace. “Ugh, Balloon Boy is NOT the face I need to think of right now.”

I sulked a bit apologetically. “Sorry.”

His eyes darted to me briefly, and he straightened up, “Hey, hey, no, that's not-- Ah, dammit, no, it's fine, this is just. Really unnerving.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered in response. “It doesn't help that I think that, uh.”

“This might be Dead by Daylight?”

Mark stood up again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was about to stream it with Jack, bobby, and Wade. You?”

“I was about to start recording my own sessions, yeah. Maybe we ended up in your version. We're waiting on one of them to show up, right?”

“Yeah, totally. Uh. Except.” Mark stared at the ground in exaggerated shame.

“You were going to be killer first, huh?” I groaned. He nodded in response. “Okay, well. If this _is_ Dead by Daylight, we still need four. Right?”

We looked around the fire.

We both screamed.

Murmurs like knives dug into my ears.

_P̸͙͂a̶̰͚̽̏w̵̮̯̎n̴̯͋ṡ̴̢̫̚ ̴̬͒t̷͌͜o̵͉̫͋ ̶̠̈p̴̘̭͒l̸̻̰͐a̷̧̔̽y̶̼̏̐ F̴͈̠̆o̴̟̿u̸̯r̶̼̊̀ ̸̣̒̾a̷̳̒g̷̫̞͝͠ǎ̶͓͉i̴̲̙̇̽n̴̡͚̍͗s̴͚̭̈́t̵̟̊̈ ̴̭̮̂o̷̼̊̚n̴͓̭̒e̶̛̺̭͂P̶͖̈̅l̷͔̠̃̄ẹ̴̲̏̄a̶̯̘̓ṣ̶͓͊e̸͔̠͘͘ m̷̻͂̎e̷͔̩͆̔,̸̣̓͆ ̵̲͝p̶̢̖͊̍ë̷̯̒ẗ̴͇͍́̈́s̸̙̺̕ T̷̪͛w̸̮͐̚o̸̗̊ ̷̞̳̒͂f̶͙̻̀͠i̷͍̼͒̃g̷̻͐h̶̢͗t̴̝̺̐ ̷̘͊̎ṭ̷̅̓h̴̫̜͛̃ř̵̨̛e̸̬͑ë̴̳̠́̒_

“Okay,” I yell, more to calm myself then be heard. “Not crazy, there's voice?”

“Yup!” Mark yelled back, as tense as I felt.

_P̸͙͂a̶̰͚̽̏w̵̮̯̎n̴̯͋ṡ̴̢̫̚ ̴̬͒t̷͌͜o̵͉̫͋ ̶̠̈p̴̘̭͒l̸̻̰͐a̷̧̔̽y̶̼̏̐ F̴͈̠̆o̴̟̿u̸̯r̶̼̊̀ ̸̣̒̾a̷̳̒g̷̫̞͝͠ǎ̶͓͉i̴̲̙̇̽n̴̡͚̍͗s̴͚̭̈́t̵̟̊̈ ̴̭̮̂o̷̼̊̚n̴͓̭̒e̶̛̺̭͂_

_P̶͖̈̅l̷͔̠̃̄ẹ̴̲̏̄a̶̯̘̓ṣ̶͓͊e̸͔̠͘͘ m̷̻͂̎e̷͔̩͆̔,̸̣̓͆ ̵̲͝p̶̢̖͊̍ë̷̯̒ẗ̴͇͍́̈́s̸̙̺̕ T̷̪͛w̸̮͐̚o̸̗̊ ̷̞̳̒͂f̶͙̻̀͠i̷͍̼͒̃g̷̻͐h̶̢͗t̴̝̺̐ ̷̘͊̎ṭ̷̅̓h̴̫̜͛̃ř̵̨̛e̸̬͑ë̴̳̠́̒_

“And that one almost made sense,” Mark called out.

Silence followed.

“Did we scare it off?” I asked tentatively. After a moment more, we both sat down.

_Pawns to play_

I shuddered. The voice played like a whisper near my ear and dug into my head like a horrible ache.

_Four against one_.

I exchanged terrified expressions with Mark.

_Please me, pets._

“No rubbing in the woods,” I muttered beneath my breath. The slight smirk at the corner of Mark's mouth told me he heard it.

_Two fight three._

I fell backwards off the log as the fire erupted into black. Tendrils shot out towards us. Darkness incarnate. Even the brilliant firelight that returned didn't change the pitch of the now approaching Entity. A black hole. I tried to scramble away, but it caught my ankle.

 

The world went black.

 

My vision cleared to cornfields, the small of musky hay around me. For a brief moment, I wondered if I landed back in Indiana. Then my brain realized everything had an orange-yellow hue to it. I had never seen sunlight wash everything so completely.

“Ani!” The harsh whisper made me sit up straight. I let the goosebumps settle before I crawled my way over to where Mark was hiding, behind a larger rock. I took a moment to steady my breath.

“This is seriously happening?” he growled to nothing in particular, a hard light in his eyes. My throat tightened, my entire body tense. It hadn't been at me, but... He snapped out of it. “Shit, hey, calm down, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-- Fuck.”

I let out a huff of air, trying to wipe the tears from my face. “No, shit, sorry, I just-- Fuck. I don't know, this looks exactly like Coldwind Farm.” My pulse raced. Would we even know if whoever was hunting us was near?

“Yeah. Shit, it's exactly like the damn game.”

“I don't know how generators work, let alone how to repair them!” I felt panic welling up in my chest. I was going to be useless.

Mark put a hand on my shoulder. “It's fine. We'll figure this out. We got this.”

My breath was ragged. I would be doomed if the killer was near. Who even was it?

“The trapper? Hillbilly? Bing bong?” I muttered to myself, trying to remember all the ones that had been added later.

“Bing bong? It's more of a ding.”

I froze, then looked sheepishly at him. “My roommate refers to it as a Bing Bong. It, uh, just sort of stuck.”

A slight chuckle escaped him. “Alright, that's fair.” He pointed towards a worn down wall. “I can see the lights of a generator over there. Might as well see what we're up against, right? Should just be able to get power and stay hidden. Easy.”

“Easier on a computer screen when you can actually see around you,” I muttered.

“Don't be like that,” he huffed. “We'll get out of here. Who knows, maybe it's just one wild dream.”

“Wouldn't be the first one,” I respond.

“See, there you go! Let's get to work.”

I let him take the lead, ears trained on the area around us. The rotten wood stung my nose as we rounded the barrier to the large mechanical box on the other side. For the briefest moment, I stared at the tangle of tubes and wires hopeless. Then, something compelled me forward. A thought in the back of my mind. I reached through the guts of the machine and pulled at a loose pipe far within.

_Clunk_

The first piston began to pump, ever so slightly. I bit my grin to keep from making noise. Mark gave a silent fist pump, then knelt beside me. We went to work.

I will never be able to explain how, but we pulled and twisted the innards of that machine with the lead of some other worldly force. I tried not to think about it.

Mark gave a hard yank on the last piece, and the lights flared to life. We gazed in awe at our handy work. We exchanged brilliant grins, then Mark's eyebrows knitted together.

“Shit, are you alright?”

After my confused look, I followed his gaze to my hands. Small cuts crisscrossed my palms. I hadn't even noticed and told him as such. They weren't bleeding. Anymore. Mark started to protest something.

_Ba bump._

My heart pounded in my ears.

_Ba bump. Ba bump._

We bolted. Before long, I pulled Mark's shirt to get him to stop and half-crawled my way behind a large boulder between the generator as a tall stone fence I could only imagine was the edge of the arena.

_Ba bump ba bump ba bump_

I tensed as footsteps ground the dead grass on the other side of the boulder. I prayed it – _whatever it was –_ hadn't seen us.

Heavy breathing.

More steps.

Away.

And away.

My heart stopped pounding my ears, though it continued to pound my chest. I tried to calm it down.

“The _fuck_ was that?” Mark breathed.

“Four against one,” I murmured. “Though it isn't Bing bong.”

“Ding dong.”

There was a brief pause, then I burst into a fit of giggles. I looked up to see Mark smiling a little, color returning to his face. Good to know I wasn't the only one scared shitless.

“We should get moving.”

 

We were nearly done with the next generator when we discovered the other two survivors. Two boys about my age. They had just finished a generator each.

I slammed a plug into the machine, and the lights flared. As we slinked away, Mark asked the two their names. They replied with Kevin and Vince. Mark offered a broad grin.

“Well, we only need one more, right?”

“In theory,” I muttered, immediately regretting it when Mark's face fell a little. I really had to try to be more optimistic. “But there should be more then we need. Do either of you know who's after us? We didn't get a good look.”

“Some freak with a chainsaw.” Vince sighed. “Caught me off guard with his hammer.” He pulled up his shirt to show off an awkwardly patched up bruise.

“Hillbilly,” I groaned. “It really is a fucking recreation of--”

_rrrrRRRRR_

“Scatter!” Kevin yelled and tackled me. My heart pounded in my ears again. A misshaped form form burst past the spot I had been moments before. Mark and Vince helped us up. All four of us bolted into the cornfield. My head pounded to the beat of my heart. I rounded a haybale, questioning the logic of the closet on the other side only briefly before I ran up to it and slammed the door. As the noise echoed, I scuttled my way to some bushes nearby and stayed low to the ground.

My heart no longer hurt my ears. My legs pulsed in pain. I was alone.

Shit. I was alone.

I crawled out of the bushes to gather my bearings. Haybales and a thin cropping of trees surrounded me. A tilted and dying building loomed nearby. Against my better judgement, I made my way towards it. If this really was like the game, there would be a generator there.

The wood creaked beneath my feet. Crickets started to chirp. Crows cooed close by. I climbed the rickety stairs and hoped it held. If I didn't look down, I'd be fine. Sure enough, on the balcony of the second floor, sat the dead generator. I climbed over the window, then stopped.

Clear as day on the other side of the overhang, sat a chest. I waited just a moment, then approached it. The lid was heavy, but after a lot of effort, I managed to get it open. There was a lot of junk, but just beneath it, I could see a dark red shape.

I tried to contain my squeal of joy as I reached for it. Retrieving it made more noise then I expected. Once the red medical bag was in my possession, however, I heard it.

A chainsaw revved.

My heart leapt. I crawled back into the house. A closet sat across the room. I slipped in as my heartbeat started to pound in my ears. The chainsaw rang.

A scream of pain echoed.

My stomach plummeted.

A horn blared outside. I felt a warmth draw me to either side, though I noted to myself the right felt closer. A cold rock plummeted through my body, followed by a pained yell. I dared peek out.

Nothing.

I crept out and followed the cold pull. My heartbeat left my ears. A set of stairs descended further into the house, down into the ground. Every bone in my body told me to leave. That this would end poorly, but the cold stone dragged me down, towards whoever had gotten hooked.

The stench of blood and decay nearly made me pass out.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Vince. He hung from a rusty hook, which pierced his shoulder that bled so badly, only splotches of his shirt remained unstained. Hands shaking, I grabbed his chest, just beneath his arms. Unholy strength pulsed through me, and he slid easily from the hook. Dark tendrils crept along the wound and sealed it.

Well. Stopped the bleeding, anyway.

Fuck that's creepy.

“Why--?”

I cut him off by dragging him up the stairs. “Because whatever the fuck is holding us here shouldn't be allowed to have anyone. Let's go.”

We ducked into some bushes outside the house, and I opened the medkit. I yelped as gauze flew out and wrapped around Vince. I struggled to slow it down, then he let out a pained yell as some of the gauze jammed into a wound.

It took longer then I wanted to patch him up. After, though, we ran. I hoped I remembered the right direction. Over a haybale, I saw the door. I felt a grin spread over my face. It was already open. No one looked to be waiting. The other two must have gotten out. Vince and I ran as fast as we could.

The chainsaw revved behind us.

_No. No no no no._

It charged toward us.

The archway passes overhead.

I can hear it growling.

My foot hit the fog.

The world went black.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Pleased. Shall play again._

 

A familiar voice pleaded to me, pulled me out of the darkness. The shadows peeled away. My fiance's terrified face sat in front of me.

“Ani?” he asked quietly. I nodded. Every bone in my body ached. My hands burned. My heart pounded. He held me tight. “What the fuck happened? I woke up and you-- this-- this _thing--”_

“I have no idea,” I muttered, though my eyes were drawn to my palms. Scratches crisscrossed my palms. “I...” I looked at him as tears started to fall down my cheeks. “I don't know if you'll believe me.”

 

We sat on our bed, he held me close. While I had been running for my life, a black mist had encased me. My fiance explained a burning sensation emanating from it. He had seen it lash out at me and cut my palms. He tried everything to get to me, but it was like pushing a brick wall.

I was out of tears when I spoke again.

“I think it's going to take me back.”

“Think we can prepare for it?”

I shrugged, exhaustion slamming into me. I slumped against him. “We can try.”

He kissed my forehead, and I slowly drifted to sleep.

I woke up to my fiance stroking my hair. He offered a teasing smile.

“Your dream boy is alright. Looks shaken, but he uploaded while you slept.”

“I told you,” I muttered in my haze. “He's not my dream boy. You are.”

He kissed my forehead again. “Still think you need better dreams.”

He went back to the computer room as I grabbed my phone. Sure enough, Mark had uploaded a new video. A vlog, specifically. Bracing myself, I clicked it.

“Hey guys.”

His voice was shaking, though the only reason I could tell was knowing where he had been.

“I meant to stream today, but something came up. I know, I know. Unfair and all that. And, well, honestly, I want to tell you all what happened, but...” He trailed off and looked away from the camera. He jumped a bit as Chica decided it was lap time. He hugged her around the neck, then looked back up at the camera. “It's a pretty fucked up thing, honestly. And I don't think its over. So. Just.” He hesitated. My stomach churned.

“I hope you are safe.”

I paused the video. He looked as terrified as I felt. In the flood of comments, I wasn't sure what to make me stick out. So many viewers expressing confusion but support, saying they would stay safe, he shouldn't worry about them. But that wasn't what it was, was it?

A shudder ran down my spine as I typed two simple words.

_Bing bong._

I stared at the letters for a long while. A throw away joke we had given, but maybe? And my YouTube name included my actual name. Would he know how it's spelled?

I hit submit and unpaused the video. It amazed me that he was able to keep the perfect cadence on his farewell.

It took a while, but eventually the little red number appeared next to the bell. I opened the message from Mark's channel, my brain still trying to comprehend that that was happening. He expressed mild confusion at my choice of identifying myself, it had taken him a bit, but was happy I was safe. The rest of the message...

Was a jumbled mess. Though not as if he couldn't type it. Something had glitched the words. Not even the special glitchy text I had seen all over the internet, but shifting, moving, black shapes. It was horrific to watch. I wondered if he saw it too. I tried to reply with what had happened when I got back. When I hit send, the text moved and shifted in the same way as his. A harsh whisper needled my brain.

_Survived together, silence apart._

I frowned. Then went back to his vlog. It replayed just as it had the first time. I shifted around in my bed to sit up. Once I pulled my phone's camera up, I made sure I could properly see myself, then hit record. I had no idea if it would work, but I recorded a companion vlog. Not mentioning his involved, obviously, but an update for all... six... of my subscribers that, well, things were happening. I kept it short, since I didn't want to turn on my computer again. There was no real change once it was updated until much later.

_Ding dong._

It was a little surreal to see Markiplier comment on one of my videos. If the PM didn't do it, that did. Any other situation, I might have screamed in glee. Instead, I just started to cry. Cry terrified tears of horror.

All of this was real.

 

The Entity took us again that night. My fiance and I had put me in harder clothes, and tried to take my purse filled with supplies. When I woke up, just moments before Mark, I was in a plain shirt and loose capris. So much for being able to prepare. Mark and I got our bearings, then sat down on the logs.

“Vince and I found the door you and Kevin opened. We just made it, the Hillbilly was right behind us,” I explained. The fire crackled during a brief pause.

“It doesn't work like the game,” he replied. At my quizzical look, he continued, voice low. “Only one pair gets to leave through the doors.” He grimaced as I sputtered. “Kevin was with me, but wasn't able to cross the threshold. I wasn't allowed back in.”

I felt my heart race. “But Vince-- The-- The chainsaw-- He wasn't--”

_Two fight three_

We looked to the fire. Tendrils of shadow crept out.

I was happy to discover Mark also fell off the log to get away from them.

_Two find doors._

It danced on the ground. It surrounded us.

_Two find keys._

I yelped in pain as darkness stabbed my hand. Mark's own pained scream followed. Like a needle sewing a hem, the shadows pierced our arms, from palm to shoulder, Mark to me and back again. Each stab sent a wave of fire through me. The mist encased us.

_Traps give freedom._

The mist settled, leaving me alone among trees. A dim blue light illuminated the entrance to a mine. I bit my tongue. No one else was around. My arm pulsed a bit in pain. Then the side began to burn. I gritted my teeth and started to walk. No generator lights were in sight. Crows cawed in the distance. The smell of coal and oil burned my nose as I ducked by the wall of the mine entrance. MacMillan Estate. If this was the Entity playing games, I hoped it kept the theme. I hadn't seen any bear traps, though.

Pain shot through my arm. I bit back a scream. It had all focused on my hand. I turned to continue moving.

The pain shifted.

I stopped and stared. My elbow burned, as though an inch above embers. I turned towards it. The pain drifted to my inner arm. I took a step back. It got more intense. I took two steps forward. It dulled. I stared out over the estate, then followed the pain's release. It left me feeling exposed at times, no cover around me, but no movement could be seen in the fog.

“Fuck!”

I jumped out of my skin at the curse. A feminine voice, from behind a rock.

“Hello?” I called out as loud as I dared. A face appeared in the shadows. Blue eyes pleaded with me. I ducked behind the boulder. The girl sat there, failing to keep drips of blood from escaping a nasty gash on her arm. I felt something surge through me, and my hands almost worked on their own. I watched in a bit of wide eyed horror as the Entity's magic stopped the bleeding.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Took us by surprise, too.”

“Did you see what the hunter looked like?”

She shook her head. “James and I try not to. If you can hear your heart, you run.”

“Or hide,” I muttered. “So you've done this all already?”

The girl nodded. “Against some creepy see through fuck.” I shuddered. I was NOT looking forward to facing the Wraith – assuming I made it out of this fucking estate alive.

“Samantha, by the way.”

I shook my thoughts. “Ani.”

She jerked her thumb to point behind her. “There's one of those machines over there. Bet we can get it rollin' faster together.”

I nodded and followed her lead. I tried not to think about decisions we'd have to make later. The burn became more intense, but I decided to ignore it for now. We had a generator to work on, and it took almost no time at all to get three of the pistons moving.

A scream of pain echoed in the night.

Samantha and I stopped. The same cold stone from before radiated in my chest. Samantha stared into the mist, color draining from her face. The cold slammed against my right side, the same place as her gaze.

“Keep working,” I stated, already at my feet. “I'll help 'em.”

I took off as fast as my legs let me. The cold feeling made it hard to breath, so I focused on my arm. The burn was waning. The same direction as the cold.

_Ba bump_

I dove for cover. My heart pounded in my ears. Boots crunched nearby. Leather and metal creaked, accented by heavy breaths. A low growl made my spine tingle.

My pounding heart left my ears as the cold drained from my chest. I peered out into the dark. Just ahead of me, almost completely hidden, were metal teeth of a trap, tucked away in the tall grass.

_Trapper._

I crept towards it, and almost without thinking, reached out. Energy shot through my hand like lightning, and the trap snapped shut. I fell back in surprise. As I tried to catch my breath, my eyes darted back and forth.

Nothing.

I shook off the feeling and continued on. Samantha must have finished the other generator – or was at least close – so I hunted for a new one. The one I came across sparked and sputtered, the pistons starting to slow. It calmed when I started to work on it.

I finished just in time to hear my heart in my ears. I ducked into the shadows. A looming form skulked in the mist. A horribly scarred giant of a man came to view. Faded overalls and a horrific, grinning mask set a terrifying figure. On his shoulder, struggling to free herself, was Samantha.

She screamed as the nearby hook pierced her shoulder. The cold feeling froze my breath. I heard metal creak as the killer set another trap before wandering away. When my heartbeats lessened, I made my way to her. She struggled with the hook, a dark essence quickly forming around the hook. She barely seemed to notice me until I grabbed her sides.

“Oh thank fuck,” she breathed. “Let's go, he's still close.”

We ran a ways before finding a spot for me to heal her. Once the bleeding stopped, we crept towards some nearby, dim lights, and began to work.

When I gave it one last shove, the lights flared to life, followed by a triumphant horn. Warmth bloomed inside me to the north, and we took off running, Samantha just behind me. Along the mine shaft, around debris, through grass.

I screamed.

The trap held my ankle fast.

I cried out for Samantha's help.

She ran, far past me, out of sight into the mist.

 


	3. Chapter 3

I struggled with the metal. Iron teeth dug into my fingers and shin. My hands stung, slipping from the pooling blood. I could barely see through my tears.

_Ba bump_

I let out a panicked yell

_Ba bump. Ba bump_

My heart hurt my ears. His leather boots stomped closer. Closer.

_CRACK_

My scream echoed in time with my breaking bones. The trap released me, only for it's owner to hold fast. After a moment of stillness, the Trapper dropped me onto the muddy ground. I tried to get up, futile as it was. My legs were a mangled mess. I felt my throat tighten. This couldn't be the end, could it? Being left behind, abandoned by the person I saved? Alone?

The hell of a boot splashed mud onto my face. I wimpered, convinced he'd finish me then and there.

_Ba bump. Ba bump._

I opened one eye.

_Ba bump._

He continued into the fog, where Samantha had run. As my heart left my ears, I felt only a shimmer of hope. My legs could barely move. I could crawl, but every motion sent a wave of agony through me. Every inch was covered in blood. I curled up next to a tree to try and get my bearings. That's when I realized.

My arm wasn't burning.

I tentatively called out. Barely a harsh whisper. I could only hope my instinct was right. After a moment, I heard a relieved, familiar voice.

“Ani? Keep talking!”

“And no one explodes?” I asked, hoping the humor would off set how gory I looked.

Mark's head appeared around the tree trunk. The brief relief on his face sent me into tears. A string of curses left him, and he knelt by my legs. The heat of the Entity's magic coursed between us. I held down bile as I felt my skin stitch back together. The bones snapped into place. Mark helped me to my feet and guided me away. There was agony in every step, accented by a small whimper from my throat. We sat in the shadows of the mine entrance, and he finished patching me up.

“The-- the other girl--”

He nodded solemnly. “They were opening the door when I came to find you. I don't know if he caught them.”

“And-- and after I helped her--”

“Same with him,” Mark growled. “But-- Just. Just breath. We'll be fine. We'll make it.” He put his blood and dirt stained hands on my shoulders, waiting for me to look him in the eye before continuing. “I promise. We'll be okay.”

“How can you promise that!?” I balked.

He dug into a pocket and pulled something out. A pitch black key. “I found this while getting that guy patched up.”

My jaw fell open. “The trap door key?”

Mark nodded, then helped me to my feet. They still ached, still looked like hell, but I could move.

“Who knew rubbing in the woods was so helpful,” I muttered. A smirk played at my face as Mark snickered. We fell into silence as we moved about the area. At times, our hearts lept to our ears, and we'd split to hide until the trapper left. I yelped a bit too loud at some point, only just able to keep Mark from stepping into the waiting jaws of a trap. When I pulled back on his shirt, he stumbled towards me. Both off balance, we fell back onto the ground.

“Good catch,” he whispered.

“We should go,” I urged. “Now.”

We scrambled away as the heart beats started. Around a corner, Mark stopped me.

“Where is it usually?” he asked. I shrugged helplessly. He spat a quiet curse. “I feel like we've been all over.”

“We could--”

“We are _not_ splitting up.”

I gave him a flat look. “We could try inside the mine.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, embarrassed. “Yeah, that works.”

“Considering I almost bled out alone, no, I don't want to split up,” I whispered, my voice somewhere between determined and terrified.

The conversation was left at that. We went into the mine, and I could tell something was wrong. The air felt tense.

_Ba bump. Ba bump_

I grabbed Mark's arm. He stopped, then shuddered. We looked at one another, then he peered around a corner. His expression when he retreated confirmed my worries.

“Door?”

He nodded. “And guarding.” He put the key in my hand. I grabbed his arm.

“Oh, no you don't. We agreed not to split up!”

“Well what do you suggest?!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came through. I didn't know, but Mark – _fucking 18 million subscribers Markiplier_ – wasn't about to risk his life for me.

“Make him loop. We find a trap and one of us screams.”

“So... distraction,” Mark said in a flat voice.

“And unseen. And together, but yes.”

He sighed, then stood. “Fine, but you still take the key. I want you through the door first.”

I thrust my hands towards him in disbelief, then let a sigh slump my whole body. “Fine.”

He checked to make sure we hadn't alerted the Trapper with our crazy whispers, then we slid out of the mine. It didn't take long to find a ready trap. Mark looked at me and pointed to himself. I pouted.

“Professional screamer,” he scoffed, then held up a hand, all fingers raised.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

When Mark screamed in pain, I was given a clear reminder that he had become quite the actor. My heart beat in my ears. We tore across the ground, leaping into the mine shack. The Trapper let out a frustrated yell. I saw the trapdoor. My heart pounded. My fingers fumbled with the lock and key. Wood burst behind us. The door flew open. Mark let out a panicked yell. Without thinking, I turned and pounced onto the Trapper. He dropped his prey, trying to pull me off. Mark got a grip first, dragging me away. The Trapper's eye glared at me from behind the mask as Mark jumped.

Together, we descended into the darkness.

And landed. Mark set me down and collapsed. The dark mist surrounded us. Just us. It was utterly silent. When I groaned, the sound fell dead.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he muttered between breaths. “Holy hell, what did you do?”

I shrugged. My hands pulsed in pain. The jaw of the mask had added to my wounds. “They left us to die, huh?”

“Don't dwell on it,” Mark urged. “We made it. All four of us got out alive.” He hesitated. “We get to hang out? What the hell is going on?”

_Pawns played well._

_A moment's rest._

_For a later life._

_And a later test._

“Rhyming, now?” I droned. “Probably would have been better from the start.”

“Aw, don't be like that. I bet it worked really hard for that poem,” Mark teased. We stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. A shimmer lit up ahead of us. Grey tendrils tapped the ground, an irate customer waiting for service. We both fell silent.

_Time to recover._

_Time to life._

_Time for loved ones._

_Time for two._

The mist cleared. I stared at the sun drenched window of my room. All of the injuries, all of the fear, crashed into me, all at once. A shudder ran down my spine.

I collapsed to the floor and cried.

 


	4. Chapter 4

As promised, we were given time to recover. I had to come up with bullshit excuses for work as to why I looked like shit, and seriously considered putting in my two weeks. It's just a shitty grocery store gig anyway.

When I wasn't at work, I lived in our bathtub. Every muscle cried out in pain, only soothed by hot water.

Mark was able to upload several videos, though I could see his act breaking at times. He focused on comedic games and admitted in a vlog it might be a bit before he returned to any scary ones.

I had just gotten ready for bed when we returned to the campfire. My hair was still wet, but the Entity had seen fit to change me into a leather jacket, plain tee, and loose jeans. Mark was a minute behind me.

In nothing but a towel.

I felt my face go beet red. It took longer then I wanted to cover my face.

“You couldn't have at least given me pants!?” Mark yelled to the mist.

“I thought you hated pants,” I replied.

“Obviously,” Mark huffed. “But pants are bit of a requirement for-- Thank you!”

I chanced a peek through my fingers. He had been given a dull hoodie and jeans.

Still shirtless.

“This is a distraction, isn't it?” I muttered, staring at the fire.

“Let me zip up,” he sighed, plopping down next to me.

“I gotta admit, the fact you and Amy are comfortable enough to do fan service is... Kind of amazing.” I looked back at him once I heard the zipper.

He shrugged. “Why not? Just some shirtless footage.”

“She filmed you showering!”

“And,” he noted. “Only people who watch her videos get to see that one.”

I didn't have a good response.

“Seriously, though, how have you been holding up?” he asked, voice dropping low.

I grimaced. “I'm alive. I've been living in the bathtub. My legs are going to be scarred for life.”

“I'm sorry. I--”

I cut him off with an elbow. “Don't. You came back and got me up. I know you would have gotten me off the hook, too.”

He shuddered. “I don't even want to know what that must feel like.”

“I'm trying not to think about it.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

_Pawns shall play?_

“Do we have a choice?” Mark growled. When I shifted uncomfortably, he shot me an apologetic glance.

_Choice of life._

_Choice of death._

“So, no,” I murmured.

_Life is a choice._

“And that was a complete sentence,” Mark said. “I'm impressed.”

Something about the Entity's comment made my gut turn. I shook it off as the tendrils wrapped around us. Metal grinded together outside, and I had a sinking feeling about our destination. The mist cleared. An orange haze surrounded me. Mark had been sent just a few feet away. The burnt smell of oil and heat nearly knocked me down.

“Bing bong,” I whimpered and made my way to Mark. He had already reached the same conclusion.

“Let's hurry. Before he finds us.”

“One of us should keep guard at generators. He distorts the air.”

Mark nodded. “Think you can?”

“Promise.”

We set out. The car graveyard loomed all around us.

We found the other two survivors before anything else. A boy and a girl, both in their teens, and scared out of their minds. Unlike us, this was their first experience in the Entity's realm. Just a glance, and I knew Mark intended to let them use the doors. We had the trapdoor once, we could have it again.

The four of us found a generator. I kept watch while Mark explained the Entity's powers for them. The pistons began to shift and move.

The scenery shimmered.

“Run!” I yelled, grabbing the girl by the arm. The ghostly bell sent shivers down my spine as my heart lept into my ears. My arm started to burn as Mark and the boy ran a different way. The Wraith followed me.

My companion tripped. She let out a terrified shriek as she fell. I got behind her, got her on her feet. A blade sliced through the air. From shoulder to shoulder, I bled, pain coursing through my body as I urged her on. She scrambled away. I took a different turn. The wraith kept up, his growling drawing ever closer.

The blade cut across my back. I screamed in pain as I toppled to the ground. For a brief moment, everything was still.

A gnarled hand picked me up. The wraith slung me over his shoulder and started to walk. I struggled against his iron grip. It didn't take long to reach our destination. He hoisted me over and onto a hook.

My pain echoed in the night, followed by that haunting bell. The wraith's form shimmered and disappeared, leaving me alone in the junkyard. I watched as the grass shifted out into the mist.

The pain was unbearable. All my weight hung from my shoulder, that pulsed with pain at every heartbeat. My arm burned, but it held no position. No indication if I was going to be rescued. At times, I thought I felt a draw of warmth. A pulse of a friendly step. A whisper of another. Then, the crackle of the Entity's form burned my ear. Tendrils of shadow danced just outside my vision, crawling up my prison. A claw started to materialize above me, twitching ever closer. Someone screamed in the night.

The Entity's power surged through me, daring me to challenge it. I caught its claw just inches from my face. Every ounce of strength I had left poured into keeping it at bay.

Someone broke through the black. The teenage boy stared at me, shocked at his own strength. The Entity retreated to nothing. As I was set on the ground, another scream echoed through the night. A familiar pain, a voice I had hoped I wouldn't hear. The boy cursed.

“Mark.”

I ran. I wouldn't let it happen.

Mark wasn't allowed to die.

 


	5. Chapter 5

My foot slammed into the junk pile as I lept over it. The boy was right on my heels. I told him to go, fix more power. I skidded around a corner, following the intense burn in my arm. I heard a generator sing as it came to life. The Wraith's bell rang in the night. I bounded over another barrier. Mark struggled against the Entity's claw – _had it been that long!?_ It reared back for the final blow as his strength failed him. I sprung forward. The claw caught my arm. I sailed by. The _crack_ rumbled through the air as the Entity's claw came with me. Ignoring my burning shoulder, I pulled Mark off the hook. We ran. The horn sounded. Warmth pulled us south. As our hearts left our ears, Mark pulled me into the shadows.

“Your arm!” he hissed, worry masking all else.

My shoulder had stopped bleeding. Instead, it crackled with black and orange energy, burnt to a crisp without pain. I tried to scratch it away, but Mark stopped me.

“We don't know how it interacts with the Entity.”

I growled in frustration. “Let me deal with your wounds, then.”

Mark hesitated, then sat back. When I went to tend to his injuries, the black ran out of my arm, burning on its way down. We bit back sounds of pain.

“Okay, creepy infection acts first.”

“Least its got a spark to it.”

I gave Mark a flat look. He shrugged. “Look, I already told those two the plan. We should just search for the trapdoor.”

I rubbed the burnt skin on my arm. An expanse of broken cars lay around us, and my hope plummeted. Mark shook me a little.

“Ani, c'mon. We can do this. We have people waiting for us, we can't let them down.”

“We can't get caught,” I replied. “Both of us were almost sacrificed.”

“We'll be fine. I believe in us.”

We exchanged expressions. His soft smile drew out my own. “I'll figure out how you do that, one day.”

“When a lot of people look up to you, you need something to show.” He helped me up and we started out search. My arm started to pulse in dull pain, accented when we were close to the edge of the arena. It disappeared when we would hear the Wraith's bell. Wordlessly, we split whenever it rang, out of sight before the Wraith knew where to look. When it sounded again, we'd regroup. It took far longer then I wanted to finally find the trapdoor, but when we did, I grabbed Mark's shirt.

“We never got the key.”

Instead of the hopeless feeling I had, Mark offered me a grin. “I have a plan on that. I hope.”

I frowned, but followed him. He crouched down next to the trapdoor and pointed to my arm once I followed suit. I grimaced.

“You owe me if this hurts,” I muttered. Nothing about it seemed safe, given what my arm had been doing already.

“Anything you want, but we need to get out of here, first.”

The apology hung in his tone. I took a deep breath and grabbed the handle. My jaw clenched when the energy shot through me. A bolt of lightning ran down my arm. I choked back a scream as the trapdoor flew open. Mark caught me before I collapsed to the ground. We dove into the shadows, landing in the dark mist.

I tried to stand on my own, but my knees were weak. Far above, the trapdoor snapped shut. I let out an airy laugh.

“I can't believe--”

Mark was gone.

The black mist surrounded me, only my own skin illuminated by some unseen light.

_Cheat!_

I clamped my hands over my ears.

_Pawns lost_

_Cheat a life!_

_Cheat alone._

I screamed as bonds snapped around my wrists, forcing them behind me. My body buckled, then slammed into a chair. Cords pulled tight to keep me still. My cry was cut short by a cloth tying around my mouth. A shrill sound echoed around me.

_Tk, pah. Tk pah._

Footsteps behind me echoed with the shrill. I felt someone lean close to my ear, their breath cold. My breath caught. My heart threatened to break my chest. An all too familiar voice chuckled.

“ _Did you miss me?”_

 


	6. Chapter 6

His footsteps were the only thing I heard as he came into view. Composed, hands behind his back. Color drained from everything, a black and white film that I had become a part of. Red hints twitched at the corner of my eyes. Blue just visible in the dark. He sat down across from me and leaned in. I struggled backwards to no avail. He grinned, a pure white, sinister expression.

“No need for that,” he murmured. He reached out, cupped my chin, and forced me to stare back at him. His face flickered briefly, a confident grin to a scowl, then back again. “We're helping one another, are we not?”

I let out a gasp, my bonds released. He gracefully stood, helping me up.

“By the look on your face, my dear, you know who I am. But let me humor you.” He gave a deep bow. “Damien Iplier.”

Every bone in my body rattled. He waited, expectantly.

“Ani,” I replied. It didn't make me feel better. “Mind if I call you Dark?”

“If you a̷̭̥̪̥̳̿̐̐̃̽l̵͔͚̹̘͑̾̓͌́l̸̨͐ͅ must. Tell me, Miss Johnson, do you want to help him?”

Confused, I took a step back. Certainly Mark had been--

“Of course he was.”

My heart skipped a beat when Dark answered my thought. His teeth gleamed in the gloom. I stumbled back into a chair when his shell briefly broke, arms reaching for my throat. He glared down at me.

“Tell me. Do you know of the many worlds theory?” I could only nod. He sat down and poured a cup of tea. “Will and I are privy to it as well.”

I swallowed a knot in my throat. “Warfstache is here, too?”

His eyebrows twitched. “He has been, yes.”

“But-- The Entity-- Are you survivors or--”

“Even your blood thirsty killers have origins, Miss Johnson.” He took a sip from his teacup. “William's may be familiar to you give... _he_ is your partner here.”

“What do you want from me?” My voice sounded more confident then I felt. I cowered when placements went flying before Dark regained his composure.

“I want nothing but to leave, same as you. The Entity is unhappy with us, however, for beating it at its own game.”

I stared at my spilled tea. “Cheaters.”

“But all still pawns, are we not? And it's not without a tad bit of mercy, I suppose. You and I have been allowed some... personal time together. In place of others, I suppose.”

I shuddered at the thought. He appeared beside me, then caught me as I lost balance. He held me there, as if we had just finished dancing. I felt his fingers tighten briefly on my waist. There was nothing I could do if he decided to stop the act.

“The Entity wants one last game.” He pulled me up and spun me under his arm. “A bit more cat and mouse. Four against one, two against three.” Dark took a step back. The tension in my shoulders slowly released. “Will and his quarry in one arena. The Most Dangerous Game, a timer for me and mine.” He bowed. “You, my dear, survive no matter the night. Your idol, however...”

My arm burned. Images of Mark running and hiding in the woods filled my mind. A goofy, almost friendly voice rang out.

“ _Hello ladies, gentlemen, and all configurations between! I am Wilford Warfstache!”_

I choked out a panicked cry. Dark grinned. “Well. He'll go back, but his state of health may be... less then fortunate.”

“Why!?” I screamed.

“It was not mine to choose,” Dark said calmly. His body blurred a moment, glaring at me, pointing into the darkness. “He ruined **everything**.”

I stumbled back. I hit the ground hard, my back aching from the fall. My vision swam above me, a chandelier blinding me. A familiar scene. I scrambled to my feet, recognizing the setting. The house of their origin. But now what? The lights were on, I couldn't imagine the area would be what I remember.

I chose a direction. The house left a tingle in my spine. Was Dark in here? Was I alone? Did this house actually match the one from Mark's series?

_Four against one, two against three_

I gritted my teeth. It was another of the Entity's games, wasn't it? Mark and Warfstache... The Most Dangerous Game – Did Mark just have to survive?

Around a corner, the kitchen came into view. That creepy chef doll stared back at me. If this had any connection to the story I knew, that doll had to be something. Across the room as fast I could, I dove for cover. If Mark and Warfstache were in one area, where had Dark started here?

The shrill ambiance rang in my ears. Not a heartbeat, not singing, but that high pitched tone that so many had mentioned was painful. I waited, not daring to see where he was. It faded like a passing thought. I crept towards Little Buddy, his grin burning into my mind. No, something wasn't right. It wasn't eh figure in the house. It was an exact duplicate of the actor. Down to the creases in his face. _Or was it the Chef? From their reality?_

I reached out, tentatively. Of its own accord, my hand took the hat. A tremor shook the air. I pulled off the tail of hair. The space around it shimmered. Piece by piece, I dismantled the statue. Each fell to the ground and disintegrated. A puff of smoke in the air. I knocked the naked figurine to the floor, where it shattered. Something changed in the air. A shift in energy around the room.

I never heard the shrill noise until Dark's hands clamped around my neck.

 

_I gasped. Dresses floated around me, snickering and pointing at my shoddy attire. I had thrown it together, invited to the gala with nothing to my name._

“ _Ah, there you are, old friend!” An arm wrapped around my waist, a firm tap of a cane drawing my attention. The well dressed man beside me offered a warm smile. “Don't listen to them. They're just jealous_ they _didn't get their invitation from the mayor himself.”_

“ _I--” My face felt warm. What was wrong with me? I blinked._

“ _A dre_ am.” I _stated. “_ This _is_ a _dream.”_

His shell cracked. A brilliant red flash of light flung at me, a thin woman at my throat.

“And you need to go back to--”

The world tore apart in black and orange. I stared at the ceiling of the kitchen. Every breath felt like a Herculean labor. Pain shot down my arm. I grabbed at it, convinced someone had sliced it.

**Mark hid in an alcove, Warfstache whistling nearby. He did what little he could to keep his arm from bleeding him did.**

“Keep moving,” I muttered. “We got this.”

“ _Don't let him get to you. We got this.”_

Mark's voice echoed in my ears, as if I were watching one of his videos with headphones. I briefly wondered if he heard me.

We got this.

I found the detective next. A figurine of him, anyway. I started to pick it apart when the noise started to build. I took cover behind a counter.

_Tk puh. Tk puh._

“You can't hide forever, dear. I see what you've worked on. I can't stop you. I wouldn't want to.” His voice hung in the air. An enraged yell followed before he continued in an even tone. “Just need to give Will a tad more time.”

A moment.

“Are you still there?”

The words sent a shiver down my spine as his footsteps faded away. Shortly after, silence replaced his shrill tone. I crept back to the detective's figurine. A roll of thunder resonated through the house as the last piece fell. I wondered if this was the Entity's idea of a joke. What had Dark and Warfstache--

I grimaced.

What had William and Damien even done?

 


	7. Chapter 7

Dark-- Damien didn't find me again until I had taken apart the butler. I didn't have time to hide, so I ran. The shrill tone followed, but I never heard him run. Just a soft and steady pace. Tap, step. Tap, step.

_You won't come out ahead._

Words played at my ear, a teasing whisper of a voice too warm.

_You'll leave, but I can follow._

I entered a new room and dove under a couch. A tight fit. I could only pray.

The room started to shift, creaking and breaking. Color drained away, only gray to remain. He stopped, my eyes reflected in his shoes.

“You're better than that, dear.” His words made my skin crawl. “You know what happened. We deserve closure. Surely you, of all people, understand that.”

I bit my lip. It was just word games. He couldn't know.

“He's an actor. Always has been.”

 _So are you,_ I bit back. His feet began to wander.

“Think on it, Miss Johnson. Will--” His voice cracked. He stood across the room for a long moment. My head pounded, the noise making me lose focus.

“Will is a good man, who lost everything. Let him have this.”

I let out a small wail. The world shifted. Tilted. Broke. My feet dangled in the air, Dark's grip ironclad on my collar. He smiled.

“A dance, darling?”

 

_I tumbled back. A chorus of giggles erupted around us. I had barely managed to avoid falling into the punch. Celine glared down at me._

“This _is why I didn't want you to come,” she hissed. “You're always making a mess of things.”_

_I held back the tears, telling myself it was all from the pain in my elbow. “I didn't want to come anyway. You said Damien would be here.”_

“ _There you go, hiding behind Damien again. It's not my fault you believed me! There was a city council meeting tonight, you imbecile.”_

_A round of laughter played. I shrank back, unable to hold back the tears._

“Ani!”

 _I balked._ Mark, bloody and bruised, reached out for me. _Celine urged the crowd on. MY eyes_ darted back and _forth._ He grabbed my arm. I held tight.

I screamed in pain as my entire body pulled at my shoulder.

“Look at me! Up at me!”

The wind howled, almost drowning Mark out. Sheets of freezing rain pelted me, threatening to tear me apart. I struggled to not look down as Mark grabbed the back of my shirt. Slowly, very slowly, he pulled me up over the edge of the cliff. As we caught out breath, the scene faded away. We were left, just the two of us, in the dark mist.

“Are you alright?” he managed to sputter.

I could barely move, my limbs so cold they burned. My tears hid in the remains of the rain. He muttered a few curses as he rubbed my arms, trying to work some warmth into them. The water evaporated far quicker than the cold should have allowed. A puff of breath danced in front of me.

“H—How--?”

“I'm not just running,” Mark explained. “It just takes me a bit to find the totems.”

“Warf-- Dark--”

“Don't worry about them. They're my problem.”

I finally managed a deep breath. “Shouldn't have to do it alone.”

“We won't be. Get your stuff taken care of, I can--”

“I can't--” I muttered. “I'm stupid, and he keeps talking, and he _knows_ \--”

“He doesn't know anything,” Mark stated firmly. “He's a social savant, but you can beat him.”

We winced in unison. A jabbing pain made my head throb.

“I'm-- I can't--”

“Yes, you can,” Mark interrupted. We both began to flicker. I could see the mansion fading through the fog. Mark gave my shoulder a confident squeeze.

“You got this. I believe in you.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was warm against my face. I woke up on a balcony, the one the Colonel had watched the District Attorney from. How many statues did I need to find?

 

I went back into the house, ears trained for Dark's shrill tone. The floor creaked beneath my feet. For some reason, a post from online popped into my head, and I let my jaw go a little slack to breath quieter through my mouth. Every little bit helps, I guess.

 

I started to recognize the area around me. Mark's series had come this way during the third chapter.

 

_The Seance Room._

 

Of fucking course. I took a deep breath and opened the door. It still looked as though the seer had gone into the darkness.

 

In the center of the table was a doll.

 

A plush figure that looked like Dark, red and blue lights shifting this way and that from its black and white form. I crept closer.

 

The shrill noise entered my mind.

 

Without thinking, I grabbed at the doll. My hand wrapped around the red light. I shrieked in pain as it burned, pulling back empty-handed. The shrill got louder. I didn't have time to waste. I grabbed at it again, fingers wrapping around the blue light. Cold, too cold to grasp, but I bit back my pain and pulled.

 

The door flew open.

 

Dark let out an aggravated yell.

 

I was sent flying to the side as an arm bathed in red light crashed into me. I scrambled away and pinned myself against the far wall. Dark's form flickered violently, the blue lights of his aura shattered and fading. The item in my hand no longer felt cold. His face started to shift, transforming to a hideous mixture of Mark's and some woman's face.

 

_Celine's face._

 

He yelled at me, his voice cracking. I tried to move out of his way, reached for the other half of the doll on the table. My hand burned as it wrapped around.

 

I let out a scream as red light shot through my chest. I collapsed to the ground and brought the doll with me.

* * *

 

_Ani!?_

 

I whimpered in pain.

 

_Oh thank fuck. Please, you gotta come to._

 

I tried to open my eyes. Instead, a blurry image started to form in front of me. It looked like I was running, but my body wasn't moving.

 

… No. I wasn't running. Mark was.

 

“C'mon! 's just a knife, so what if it kills ya a little!?”

 

Warfstache's voice rang out around us. I tried to say something, but I couldn't form words. Mark ran around a rock.

 

Right into Warfstache.

 

“Fuck!”

 

As he tried to turn around, the pink mustached man swang. I felt a sharp pain enter my leg and I woke with a scream. I was beneath the table, silence in the mansion. The dolls were still in my hands.

 

I crawled out from my spot to see the room left in shambles. Red and blue lights flickered on the edge of my image. In my hands were two dolls – One of Damien. One of Celine. Something told me I only had one left to find.

 

I had to find William's.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Mark was running out of time.

 

I could feel every scrape, cut, and wound that he had received. I could feel the fatigue starting to set in.

 

I didn't know where to look for William's figure. The séance room had nothing, the wine cellar empty, the bedroom abandoned. Even the landing where he shot the District Attorney was pointless. I leaned against the banister to try and think.

 

The wood started to crack. Before I had time to react, the banister splintered and broke, sending me careening down. A familiar sight, but one that felt far too real this time.

 

I hit the ground hard, all the air leaving my lungs. I struggled to breath for a long moment before lifting my arms above my head and taking a deep breath. The scene above me wavered. A familiar memory of a scene that touched a tad too close to home.

 

I sat up and looked around.

 

There, on the bench where he had sat, for ten hours vigil, was the doll of Wilford Warfstache. I hesitated, then crawled over and reached out. My hand grabbed his hair first, and I pulled. Unlike everything else, nothing came away. Instead, a small hat appeared on the doll.

 

The Colonel's hat.

 

A panicked scream echoed in my ears, doubling me over. An image of a confused and angry Warfstache entered my mind. I felt like my back was to a wall. I grabbed the doll again, unable to see it. I pulled, and Warfstache's suspenders snapped him back a few paces.

 

“N-No!”

 

Warfstache's panicked plea made my spine crawl. I started to reach out.

 

 _We deserve closure. Surely you understand that_.

 

I choked back a sob. Word games, that's all they were. I pulled.

 

Warfstache crumpled back, quivering. “D-Damien, I-- I--”

 

_Let him have this._

 

I hesitated, all of my willpower sinking away into my memories. I felt something rumble in my ear, words that I didn't want to understand. Warfstache stood up. The tears in his eyes flickered in anger.

 

“ _Ani!”_

 

Mark's shout snapped me out of my own misery. Warfstache charged, his blade ready. I reached forward and pulled.

 

Warfstache's pained scream torn my heart apart, and it was the last thing I heard before falling to darkness.

 


	10. Chapter 10

I started to come to and knew I wasn't home. White surrounded me, and I felt something in my nose. My eyelids felt like lead as I tried to open them.

 

“Ani?”

 

I nearly burst into tears at the sound of my fiance's voice. I actually did when I saw his face.

* * *

 

Mark and I had been taken for three days straight, then I had been in a coma for a week. It took me a while to get back on my feet. My fiance had kept in contact with Amy, since she was the only other one who knew the full story of what happened to us. Mark was stable, had even posted a few videos from the hospital (of fucking course he did.) Once I came to, we had gotten each other's numbers and spent a fair amount of recovery time trying to figure out if we could meet up.

 

I admitted that it might be hard for us to go to LA, so he and Amy agreed to come out to us. I was actually able to walk around pretty well when they did.

 

Mark still looked like shit. Granted, I didn't look much better. We all got lunch, but it became pretty obvious that Mark and I needed to just... talk, the two of us. So we sat down on a bench, hidden away, and did just that. About what had happened. About what we each did. About why I hesitated.

 

“It's... dumb, but I actually made a connection with Warfstache, at the end of Who Killed Markiplier.” I clenched my jaw. I hadn't really... explained to anyone face to face before. To Mark's credit, he patiently waited for me to continue. “I mean, I always kinda understood what you went through with your dad, 'cause. Well. I did too. When I was 19. But, I don't. I mean.” I winced, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “I always hear stories about what the last thing they said to you was. Your's. TV Shows. Everything. It's all. So ceremonial. And I... don't have any of that.”

 

“And then Warfstache's backstory happened?”

 

I nodded, finally just letting myself cry. “I just. Got it, ya'know. No closure. Just. Gone. I... I didn't lose everything, so I guess there's that. But it just. There's an insanity with it that always happens. And I don't think I'll ever be able to cope, not completely, and I hate it and--”

 

I was cut off as Mark pulled me into a tight hug. I didn't bother continuing, just sobbing as I leaned into it. After a long while, I managed to get my tears under control and wiped my face with my sweater sleeve.

 

“Gods above, yup. This is how I wanted to meet my idol. Covered in snot in tears.”

 

“Aw, c'mon, we had a solid like, ten minutes of not having tears.”

 

I choked back on a laugh, sniffling. “We should probably get back to them.”

 

Mark eyed me for a moment. “You okay?”

 

I offered a tired smile.

 

“Bing bong.”

 


End file.
